Chapter 455: Sword Demon
Sicar’s lips twitched, fighting back a laugh.
"Shut the fuck up, Regi! Let me concentrate!"
By now, the accumulated mental pressure had forced most candidates to activate their defensive skills.
Then the level jumped again.
Level 4
BOOM
Blood exploded from orifices across the chamber.
Noses, ears, eyes and mouths all began streaming crimson as the pressure multiplied beyond what unprotected minds could withstand.
But nobody gave up.
Everyone gathered here represented the strongest A rank awakeners in the Federation, people who’d survived years of brutal combat and impossible odds.
Pride alone would keep them standing.
Even Damian was starting to feel something now.
A faint pressure against the edges of his consciousness, like someone tapping on a door that refused to open.
’Interesting.’
His hands remained in his pockets, posture still completely casual.
’Starting to feel a slight headache...’
His eyes shifted to Helena beside him, noting how her smile had finally faded into concentration.
’Her willpower seems higher than most here as well...’
Helena’s voice came again, pointing toward a blindfolded old man whose white hair fell past his shoulders.
"And that’s... the Sword Demon. I won’t say much about his past because it isn’t my place to talk about it."
Her tone became more serious than Damian had heard from her before.
"But I’ll tell you this much: he’s the oldest A rank awakener in the entire Federation. He was already an old man when the portals first opened two hundred years ago."
Damian’s attention locked onto the figure.
"Also, he was the only person besides you who killed giants during the survival–"
Before she could finish, the air shifted.
WHOOSH
And the temperature plummeted, cold flooding the chamber so fast that Helena’s breath turned visible mid-sentence.
"–test."
The word came out automatically, her brain finishing the thought before catching up to what her eyes were seeing.
The blindfolded old man stood directly beside Damian now, close enough to touch.
And Damian held a gun pointed at the Sword Demon’s head, the barrel pressed against his temple.
’When did they–’
Everything had happened so fast that nobody else had even registered the movement.
"..."
The chamber went completely silent.
Every head turned toward them, the mental pressure momentarily forgotten as candidates stared at the confrontation.
Whispers erupted immediately.
"Did you see that?!"
"How the fuck did he draw and aim that fast?!"
"Pointing a gun at the Sword Demon? Does he have any clue who that old monster is?!"
"Look at his face... No fear at all! How bold!"
"Did you see how fast they both moved? Neither of them seems affected by the mental attacks at all!"
The Sword Demon’s lips curved into a smile beneath his blindfold.
"Don’t mind me, young man." His voice came out raspy but carrying undeniable strength. "I just wanted to take a good look at the one who killed a demon-contracted human."
’So fucking fast... Almost didn’t react on time.’
Damian’s heart slammed against his ribs.
Thump Thump Thump
Goosebumps spread across his entire body, every instinct screaming danger, but his mind remained calm.
’He isn’t radiating any pressure or killing intent... But it feels like a sword is pressed against my throat.’
His grip on the gun didn’t waver.
’One wrong move and my head comes off.’
Zara’s voice cut through the chamber from outside, amplified and carrying authority.
"Senior Sword Demon and Candidate Damian Valcor, it seems you’re both enjoying yourselves."
Her tone suggested they should stop immediately.
"Perhaps you’d like the pressure to help you focus?"
Then, without any warning, the mental pressure skyrocketed.
Level 7
SLAM
Dozens of candidates collapsed to the ground simultaneously, their mental defense shattering under the exponential increase.
"Fuck!"
"What the–"
"I can’t–"
Curses and gasps filled the chamber as people struggled against the crushing force.
Almost everyone still standing had activated both mental defense skills now, burning Aura at unsustainable rates just to remain conscious.
Icarus’s voice rang out across the chamber.
"Those who fell to the ground are eliminated... Exit the chamber immediately."
Nobody protested.
Everyone present was experienced enough to accept failure without childish complaints about fairness.
The eliminated candidates picked themselves up and left without argument, blood covering their faces and exhaustion weighing down their steps.
Damian stood with the Sword Demon and Helena, having dismissed his gun back into his spatial ring.
Before he could speak, Helena’s excited voice erupted beside him.
"Senior Sword Demon! Can I please get a selfie with you?"
She’d already pulled out her camera, bouncing on her toes with enthusiasm.
"My grandmother is your biggest fan! She has pictures of you covering her entire bedroom wall, and she tells stories about watching you fight before the portals even opened!"
Her words came out in a rapid stream.
"She’s going to be so jealous when I show her this, please please please, just one photo!"
The Sword Demon stood frozen as Helena grabbed his arm and positioned herself beside him.
Click
"One more! Just one more!"
Click Click Click
Everyone in the chamber stared with complex expressions, some horrified, others impressed by her complete lack of fear.
Whispers spread through the remaining candidates.
"Is she seriously bothering the Sword Demon for a selfie right now?"
"How is she not terrified of him?"
"Everyone knows what he did during the Monster Wars..."
"And she’s acting like he’s some kind of celebrity instead of–"
Damian noticed their reactions, his eyes tracking across the room.
Besides the ones Helena had pointed out and Helena herself, everyone else was clearly struggling now.
Faces strained, blood leaking from various orifices, Aura burning visibly around their heads.
His gaze returned to Helena.
’Did she identify the strongest people here instinctively? Or did she research everyone before arriving?’
The Sword Demon stood motionless while Helena posed repeatedly with him, her camera clicking away.
He seemed more confused than annoyed by the attention, completely unused to being treated like a celebrity rather than a threat.
Time passed as the mental pressure continued building.
The number of standing candidates dropped steadily.
Thirty remained, then twenty, then seventeen...